


Dignity

by TheStonedSoldier



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Mid-Credits Scene, Captain America: Civil War Spoilers, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve Rogers Feels, T'Challa is a gift to this earth, You're Welcome, amended canon, basically I'm fixing the mid credit scene and adding the hugs that we all need and deserve, canon but with more gay, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6953713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStonedSoldier/pseuds/TheStonedSoldier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Did you believe in your friend? Did you respect him? Then stop blaming yourself. Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice."</p><p>CIVIL WAR SPOILERS<br/>i.e. the mid credit scene wasn't gay enough and I'm fixing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dignity

** Day 1 **

It had been 4 hours since they’d arrived in Wakanda, and 3 hours 55 minutes since Bucky had been rushed away by a squadron of men and women in lab coats. In that time Steve had managed to familiarise himself with the only two rooms he’d been granted access to: the bathroom, and the corridor he was currently pacing for the 37th time. He’d been counting.

T’Challa was stood at the other end of the of the room talking with his bodyguard, and blocking off the door Bucky was being kept behind. Several times Steve had considered talking to him, but he had no idea how to start conversations with the baristas in Starbucks, let alone a king. Besides, any time he got close enough to try and eavesdrop on their conversation, his bodyguard would shoot him a cold look and he’d scurry back to the other end of the corridor again. She was a fierce looking woman, and while Steve was fairly confident T’Challa wouldn’t allow her to take his head off in the middle of the room, he was in no way prepared to test the theory, so he went back to his pacing and tried not to think about what they might be doing to his best friend on the other side of that door.     

Another 40 minutes went by before the door finally opened again and a slender man slipped out, whispering to T’Challa before they both looked over at him.

“What is it?” He asked, hurrying over and slamming into the bodyguard’s outstretched hand as she blocked him from coming any closer. Sighing, he looked up at her and cocked his eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Aneka, please.” T’Challa said softly as he placed his hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the side so Steve could come closer.

“Where’s Bucky? Is he okay?”

“Your friend is fine, Captain.” He assured. “He’s just confused.”

“He suffered some serious head trauma.” The other man cut in, stepping forward and glancing up at T’Challa before continuing. “He’s disorientated, but we’ve done some scans and there doesn’t appear to be any permanent damage.”

“And that’s good.. right?” Steve asked hesitantly. Their solemn faces weren’t exactly filling him with confidence, and it took all his strength to not just push past them and find Bucky himself.

“It is good.” T’Challa finally explained. “But it means the conditioning he’s under is deeper than we thought. It will be harder to find a way to reverse it, and even harder to tell if any of the solutions we do try have even had an effect.”

“So he could be under Hydra’s control forever?”

“It’s a possibility. He’ll be fine as long as he’s never exposed to those trigger words again.”

Steve nodded slowly, looking down at the floor and sighing deeply. “Does he know?”

“No.” The doctor said quietly. “We thought it would be best if you told him. He’s been asking for you.”

They both looked over at T’Challa with uncertainty, silently seeking permission from him. The King looked at the two of them, then over at his bodyguard who seemed very unhappy about the whole situation, before finally nodding and gesturing towards the door.

“Steve,” T’Challa said before he could go through, placing his hand firmly on his shoulder. “I am going to do everything in my power to help him.”

Steve was so taken aback by the fact that the King of Wakanda had just addressed him by his first name that it took him a few moments to formulate a reply. Staring at him with a dumbstruck look on his face for a few moments before stammering out a thank you. Although he didn’t say anything, he was fairly sure he saw the corner of the King’s mouth twitch into a smile as he was turning around.

The lab on the other side of the door was bigger than he’d anticipated, full of men and women in lab coats with microscopes, computers, and all kinds of machinery that Steve could only guess the function of. He followed the doctor across the room, weaving in between desks and projectors until he finally spotted Bucky propped up on a clinical looking bed. A black cover had been put over what remained of his metal arm, and he’d been changed into a loose t-shirt and sweats. Steve was beginning to wish he’d taken up T’Challa’s offer of some clean clothes when he’d arrived. He felt incredibly out of place in the dirty, blood streaked suit being in such a clinical environment.  
Bucky himself looked lost and dazed, staring into space and only becoming aware of Steve’s presence when he was a few feet away from him. He sat up a little when he saw him, smiling before looking him up and down and shaking his head.

“You look like a fucking mess, Steve.” He muttered, grimacing as Steve sat on the edge of the bed. “And you smell disgusting.”

“We can bring you a change of clothes.” The doctor offered and Steve nodded, gesturing for him to go before Bucky could make another snide comment.

The two of them sat for a few moments, glancing up at each other and saying nothing. So much had happened in the past few days that Steve had no idea where to start. Eventually he sat up, taking a deep breath and nudging his arm gently.

“How you feeling?”

“Not sure there’s a word to describe it.” Bucky mumbled, looking down at his lap and sighing. “If they stick one more needle in me I’m gonna fucking lose it.”

“They’re tryin’a help, Buck.”

“I know that. I know they wanna help, it’s just..” He sighed, leaning back against the bedframe and shrugging. “I’m just tired. I’m exhausted and ever since I got here they’ve been sticking shit in my arm and shoving my head through machines and I don’t even know what half the shit in here does and some woman brought me all this fancy food when all I want is a hot dog and I’m just.. I’m tired.”

Steve nodded, draping his arm around Bucky’s shoulder. “Well.. at least you sound like you again.” He smirked. “Not sure where you’re gonna get a hot dog ‘round here though.”

“Richest nation my ass. Can’t even make me a god damn hot dog.” Bucky muttered, letting his head fall onto Steve’s arm and looking up at him. “You okay?”

“Me?”

“You must’a taken a few hits from iron jerk back there.”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, fighting the smile that tried to creep onto his face. “I’m fine. Pretty sure he came out worse than I did.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Still got blood on your face.” He tutted, licking his thumb and swiping it across Steve’s forehead. “Could’a at least got you cleaned up before they let you in here.”

“They tried to, but I didn’t want ‘em fussing over me when they should have been helping you.”

“Christ.” Bucky groaned, shaking his head and looking around the room. “How long until they fix my brain and let me the hell out of here?”

Steve frowned and looked down at his lap, squeezing Bucky’s shoulder gently. “They uh.. they don’t know if they can do anything.” He mumbled, avoiding Bucky’s eyes.

“What?”

“They don’t know _how_ Hydra put all this stuff into your brain, and until they figure that out they won’t be able to reverse it.”  

He tried to wrap his other arm around him but Bucky pulled away too quickly, sitting upright and staring blankly at the wall in front of them. Before he could say anything else he felt someone tap his shoulder, and when he turned around he saw the doctor holding out a t-shirt and some cotton pants for him. Nodding a silent thank you, he took the clothes and tore off the top half of his suit as quickly as was physically possible. The doctor seemed slightly thrown off by this and left him to it, scurrying back across the room while Steve peeled off his undershirt and pulled the looser t-shirt over his head.  
Once he’d changed into the clean clothes and placed his suit in an awkward heap at the end of the bed, he turned back to Bucky, reaching out to tentatively run his fingers through his hair. Bucky didn’t say anything, but Steve could feel him leaning into the touch.

“They’re doing everything they can, Buck.” He said softly as he scooted closer to him .

Bucky nodded sadly. “I know.” He mumbled, looking up at him with tired eyes. “I just want it to be over, Steve. I don’t wanna hurt anyone else.”

“You’re not gonna hurt anyone.”

“Not like this, maybe. But all it takes is someone saying those fucking words again and-“

Steve cut him off, grabbing his shoulders and turning him towards him. “Buck, listen to me, I’m not gonna let that happen to you again.”

“How? You gonna keep me on lockdown for the rest of my life?”

“What? No, ‘course I’m not gonna do that.”

“Then how? How can you stop it from happening again?” Bucky demanded. “If Zemo could decipher Hydra’s files, who knows how many others are gonna do the same. How the hell are you gonna protect me when you don’t even know who it is you’re protecting me from?”

“I don’t know!” Steve yelled, sitting back and hanging his head in defeat. “I don’t.. I don’t know.”

Bucky nodded dejectedly and slumped his shoulders. “That’s what I thought.” He mumbled, chewing on his lip and looking down at his hand.

He looked so small, and suddenly all Steve could see was the 8 year old kid he’d met outside the orphanage almost 90 years ago. Reaching over, he linked their fingers together and squeezed his hand gently.

“I’m sorry, Buck. I.. I don’t know what to do.” He admitted.

Bucky looked up at him, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He opened his mouth to try and formulate a sentence, but all that came out was a choked sob as he threw himself forward, draping his arm around Steve’s neck and pressing his face against his shoulder. Steve wrapped his arms around him tightly and pulled him closer.

“It’s gonna be okay, Buck.” He whispered after a few minutes, running his hand up and down his back. “We’re gonna be okay.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. We’re always gonna be okay, ‘cause we’re always gonna have each other.”

“You’re unbelievable, Rogers.” Bucky mumbled, tilting his head to look up at him. His eyes were red and puffy, but Steve could see his lips were twitching into a smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Not giving up on me.”

Steve nodded and Bucky smiled up at him, nestling his head against Steve’s shoulder and closing his eyes. “Been gone 70 years and it still took you 3 days to give me a fucking hug?”

“Yeah, I guess this is kinda overdue.” Steve chuckled, squeezing him tightly and burying his face in his hair. “Missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, punk.”

“Jerk.”

“Shut up.” Bucky smirked. “How long’s puss in boots gonna keep me here? I’m tired.”

“Bucky, he’s a king. You can’t call him that.”

“I saw his royal highness stub his toe and spend ten minutes cursing out the table. I’m not exactly feeling threatened by him after that.”

Steve snorted as he tried to picture the scene. It was hard to imagine T’Challa as anything other than the poker faced monarch he’d seen outside, but then, most people still had a hard time seeing him as anything other than Captain America. Maybe he could finally find some common ground with him.  
As if sensing Steve thinking about him, the door across the room swung open and T’Challa strode over to them, followed by two more bodyguards. Clearly they trusted Bucky a lot less than they’d trusted him.

“Is everything okay?” He asked when he reached them, looking at the two of them wrapped around each other and cocking his eyebrow curiously.

“Uh.. yeah, we’re fine.” Steve said hurriedly, moving his hands away from Bucky’s waist and trying to pull away from him. Bucky grunted in protest and gripped tightly on to Steve’s shirt, holding him firmly in place.

“Afternoon, your grace.” He mumbled sleepily, settling himself back against Steve’s shoulder.

If the King hadn’t been standing there Steve probably would have shoved him off the bed, but he managed to restrain himself. T’Challa on the other hand seemed fairly amused by Bucky’s tired rambling, letting out a low chuckle and smiling fondly down at him.

“Good evening, Mr. Barnes. I’m glad to see you are more awake now.”

“Evening?” Steve asked, looking around the windowless room and frowning. “What time is it?”

“Almost 9:30.”

He blinked up at T’Challa in surprise, trying to read his expression. He had no idea whether the King intended to let them stay here or not, and his face was giving nothing away. Bucky was being uncharacteristically quiet next to him, and he was starting to think he might have actually fallen asleep on his shoulder.

“So uh..” Steve hesitated, looking back up at T’Challa. “Do you.. want us to go?”

“It would be one less problem for all of us if you did.” The King mumbled. “But no. I promised to help your friend, and you will be safer here. I’ve arranged for a room to be prepared for you.”

“Just one?”

“Do you need more than one?” T’Challa challenged, looking him in the eye and smirking when he shook his head. “Good. Come with me.”

It took Steve a few nudges to get a response from Bucky, who was indeed fast asleep. Grumbling, he sat up and dragged his hand down his face, looking up at him grouchily.

“We gotta go, Buck.” Steve said softly, wrapping his arm around his waist and helping him down.

“Where are we going?” Bucky murmured as they followed T’Challa along a series of corridors.

“They’ve got a room for us. You can get some sleep.”

“And you can take a shower.”

“That hurts, Buck.”

Ahead of them, T’Challa stopped, pushing open a tall panelled door and ushering them inside. At this point Steve would have been happy to sleep in a broom closet, so it was a pleasant surprise walking into the wide, spacious room. Despite the sparse decorations and smooth, modern furniture, it felt cosy, and the windows along the back wall looked out onto the jungle below them.

“Is there a bathroom?” Bucky asked, whipping across the room as soon as T’Challa pointed out the door.

“They will want to do some more tests on him in the morning.” He said as he turned back to Steve. “There will be a guard outside the door, but they shouldn’t disturb you.”

“Thank you.” Steve nodded, unsure of whether he should shake his hand or not.

Before he could make up his mind, T’Challa patted him on the shoulder, nodding back at him before turning and walking back through the door. Even though he’d assured him there would be a guard on watch, he drew the lock across the door anyway for peace of mind. Behind him he heard a loud thump, and when he turned around he saw Bucky sprawled face down across the king size bed on the other side of the room.

“Steeeeeeeeeeeeeve.” He groaned into the mattress, lifting his arm up and beckoning him over. “It feels like a marshmallow.”

Chuckling to himself, Steve walked over and perched himself on the edge of the bed, reaching over to run his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “When was the last time you slept on a real bed?”

Bucky rolled onto his back and looked up at him, chewing on his lip thoughtfully. “Had a bed in Bucharest.” He murmured, yawning and scratching at his shoulder.

“That wasn’t a bed, Buck. That was a mattress.” Steve sighed, thinking back to the tiny room Bucky had been staying in. “You know I could have found you somewhere to stay, right? Nobody would have to know about it. If you’d just stayed I could’a-”

“Steve,” Bucky cut in. “No offence, but you couldn’t keep a secret if your life depended on it.”

“Is that why you left?” He asked, watching as Bucky shuffled up the bed and rested his head on the pillow next to him.

“No.. I’d already tried to kill you twice. Just wanted to get as far away as possible so I couldn’t do it again.”

“I looked for you.” Steve said softly. “We.. I never stopped looking.”

He looked down at his lap, remembering all the sleepless nights he’d spent desperately searching for any clues about where Bucky had gone, and all the dead leads he’d chased with Sam. For almost two years he’d been pushing on, not knowing if Bucky was safe, or if he was even still alive. Squeezing his eyes shut, he wrung his hands together and let out a shaky breath.

“I’m here now.” Bucky whispered next to him, reaching over and squeezing his hand gently. “It’s over now.”

“It’s not over.” He sighed. “People are still gonna be looking for you. My friends are in jail because of me, and I’m probably gonna have to break them out because I’m incapable of cooperating with authority. I just wanna go home, with you, and just have a normal life again. I want everything to go back to normal.”

“Stevie,” Bucky said softly, Steve’s heart catching at the nickname. “Things are never gonna be like they used to. You know that.”

“I know.”

“But we’re both here, and this is probably the only alone time we’re gonna get for a while. So get over here.”

Steve looked up and saw Bucky stretching his arm out invitingly. Sighing, he scooted further along the bed, rolling onto his stomach and nestling his head against Bucky’s chest. He felt Bucky wrap his arm around him and hummed quietly, closing his eyes as Bucky ran his hand up and down his back. Even though they had a million and one problems to deal with in the morning, for now it felt like things were back to normal. He felt like he was a kid again, back when he had to curl up next to Bucky to keep warm, pressing up against him and trying to ignore the way his heart ached every time their hands brushed together.  
He’d spent a huge portion of his life waiting for that phase to pass, waiting for his stomach to stop doing flips every time Bucky smiled at him, and for his brain to stop turning to mush whenever he laughed. It wasn’t until he was sixteen that he finally accepted he was in love with his best friend. Even now, lying next to him and listening to his breathing as it slowly evened out, he could still feel that same tight knot in his stomach, and he couldn’t help but press himself as close to Bucky as he could get, listening to the sound of his heart beating in his ear as he fell asleep.

 

** Day 2 **

Steve was woken up abruptly, choking and gasping for air as the hand around his throat tightened. On top of him, Bucky was straddling his chest, and through the dark Steve could see him staring down at him, his eyes narrowed and his teeth bared.

“Buck..” He choked, slapping his arm desperately. “Buck, it’s me.”

“Stevie?” Bucky whispered, his eyes widening in horrified realisation as he jerked his hand away and scrambled across the bed to get away from him. “Oh my god, Steve. I.. I’m so sorry. I didn’t.. I thought you were-”

“You were having a nightmare.” Steve said softly as he shuffled over to him, reaching his hand out to rub Bucky’s shoulder. “S’okay, I get ‘em too.”

“You do?”

Steve nodded, moving closer and wrapping his arm around him. “Yeah. Not as often as I used to, but they’re still.. they’re a problem. Got dents in the wall back home from waking up and throwing the shield at intruders that don’t exist.”

“Could’a just put the shield in a different room, Steve.”

“I did, but then I just started punching the wall instead.”

“Christ.” Bucky mumbled as he leant his head against Steve’s shoulder, sighing and looking up at him. “We’re a fucking mess.”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “You should get some more sleep.”

Bucky shook his head stubbornly. “Nah, I’m fine.” He insisted, stretching his arm above his head and sitting up. “Gonna go shower.”

Steve watched as he got up and disappeared into the bathroom. He knew Bucky was more upset than he was letting on. Back in Brooklyn, Steve could always tell when Bucky was having a bad day if he went to shower at a strange time of day. Sometimes he’d be in there for hours, long after the hot water had run out, and wouldn’t come out until Steve came in and manually shut the water off.  
Sighing, he shuffled back up the bed and propped himself up against the pillows, switching the bedside lamp on and blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light. It was still only 5:30 according to the clock on the wall next to him. He wasn’t sure how early the doctors would want to start examining Bucky again, but he hoped they would at least get a couple more hours to themselves.

Bucky wasn’t in the shower for as long as he expected. He was just starting to doze off again when he heard the door swing open, and he looked up to see Bucky walking out wearing only his sweatpants, ruffling his damp hair with the towel.

“First complaint.” He said as he flopped down onto the bed next to Steve, tossing the towel across the room and turning towards him. “It’s impossible to wash your entire body with one arm. Impossible.”       

“I’m pretty sure it’s not impossible.” Steve chuckled, rolling onto his side to face him. He couldn’t help but trail his eyes down Bucky’s chest, frowning at the scars that streaked across his skin.

“Whatever.” Bucky continued, oblivious to Steve’s staring. “Second, the King’s royal guard neglected to provide any clean underwear. So they’re gonna be in for the shock of their lives if they need me to take these sweatpants off.”

Steve felt his face heat up and looked down at his hands awkwardly, ignoring Bucky sniggering next to him.

“You’re still such a prude.” He chuckled, elbowing Steve in the ribs teasingly.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, Stevie.” Bucky whispered as he slid onto his back, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Under these clothes.. I’m _naked_.”

“Stop it, you jerk.” He protested, slapping Bucky’s chest and folding his arms grumpily.

Bucky threw his head back laughing, clutching his stomach and rolling onto his side. It was the first time Steve had heard him laugh since the war, and he felt his whole body warm up as he watched him giggling uncontrollably.

“You kill me, Stevie.” He managed to say after a few minutes, looking up at him with a dozy smile on his face.

“You’re an ass.” Steve muttered, thumping him in the face with a pillow when he sniggered at him.

“Mmhmm, still fought the government three times for me though.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at him, folding his arms and looking down at his lap. He was about to tell Bucky that he’d happily fight then entire universe to keep him safe, but a sharp knock on the door interrupted him.

“They coming to take me back to the lab?” Bucky asked, chewing on his lip nervously when Steve nodded.

“Maybe they’ll let me come with you this time.” Steve said hopefully, but Bucky just shook his head.

Sighing, Steve got up and opened the door, immediately being greeted by two of T’Challa’s stony faced guards.

“Where is Barnes?” One of them asked flatly as she pushed him aside.

“Barnes is here.” Bucky mumbled, pulling a shirt over his head as he trudged over to them. He threw Steve an empty smile before following them down the corridor.

Bucky had always hated doctors at the best of times, and after everything else he’d been through, Steve wasn’t surprised by his reluctance to sit in a lab and be tested on even more. He turned to the other guard, who had been positioned outside their room since last night.

“Where’s T’Challa? I need to talk to him.”

“You will not speak to the King unless _he_ needs to speak to you.” She muttered, fixing him with a cold glare. “Get back to your room. Breakfast will be brought to you soon.”

There were few people in the world Steve was willing to take orders from, but he decided it was probably in his best interests to do as she told him, pouting grumpily and closing the bedroom door behind him. He felt like a child being confined to his room, grumbling to himself as he flopped back down onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.  

It felt like hours before there was another knock on the door, but the clock told him it had really only been five minutes. The door creaked open before he could get up, and he breathed an overly dramatic sigh of relief when T’Challa walked in, placing a tray of food on the end of the bed and chuckling at him.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be this pleased to see me.” He smirked. “May I?”

T’Challa gestured at the bed and Steve nodded, watching him as he sat down. “I know it must be frustrating for you, being confined to one room. But I’ve already broken several laws by letting you stay here. The less people who know you are here, the better.”

“You’re the King, don’t you make the laws?” Steve mumbled as he picked at the selection of fruits on the tray.

“It’s not that simple.” T’Challa said quietly. “Anyway, I came to ask if there is anywhere you would rather spend the day, instead of being confined to an empty bedroom. We have a library or-”

“Is there a kitchen?” Steve interrupted, sitting upright.

“A kitchen?”

Steve nodded. “I think Bucky’s a little homesick. Might make us both feel a little better if I cook him something familiar. And it’ll give me something to do.”

T’Challa paused for a moment before finally nodding. “If that’s what you want.” He shrugged, standing up and gesturing for Steve to follow him.

When he saw the pristine, white kitchen, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. He’d always been a messy cook, and he didn’t imagine they’d take kindly to him cluttering up the room. T’Challa patted his shoulder and nodded at him.

“I will let you know if there’s any progress with your friend.” He said before turning and walking back out.

To Steve’s amazement he left him without the supervision of a guard, and for a few minutes he just stood, rocking back on his heels and too afraid to touch anything. Eventually he walked over to the counter, which spanned the entire length of the room, cautiously opening a cabinet and examining the contents. It was a challenge to find what he needed when the kitchen was half stocked with foods he’d never heard of and nothing was labelled in a language he could read, but eventually he managed to gather up enough items to make a meal.  
He spent a large portion of the day making an apple pie. It shouldn’t have taken him that long, but after spending most of the morning trying to remember the actual recipe, slicing his finger open while trying to peel an apple, burning himself twice, and then having to remake the entire thing once he realised the spice he’d thought was cinnamon had actually been paprika, he’d managed to kill almost four hours. He used to cook for Bucky all the time before the war, welcoming him home from work every day with his favourite meals. Bucky always joked that they were like a married couple, and Steve would always laugh along with him, even though deep down he knew that was as close as he could ever get to the real thing.  
One of Bucky’s favourites had always been Steve’s beef stew. It was his mother’s beef stew really, but Bucky had always called it his. He wasn’t entirely sure _what_ the meat was that he’d found in the kitchen, but it looked like beef, so he was using it.  
It was nice having something to focus on. He might have lost his mind if he’d had to spend the whole day just waiting to see Bucky again, but for now he was able to distract himself.  
He ended up so focused on his cooking, he didn’t hear the door open behind him, or the footsteps approaching. It wasn’t until he felt an arm sliding around his chest that he realised someone else was in the room.

“There you are.” Bucky said softly as he rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “I got word from his royal highness that you were cooking us a romantic dinner.”

“Were those his exact words?” Steve asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the pot he was stirring and trying to ignore the blush creeping onto his face.

“Not exactly. But I’m pretty sure that’s what he meant.”

Steve rolled his eyes, turning away from the stove to face him. “I thought it might cheer you up. I know you’re tired of being poked and prodded by a bunch of guys in lab coats. This’ll make you feel more at home.”

“You’re such a fucking sap, Stevie.” Bucky sighed, smiling up at him. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I needed something to keep me busy.” He shrugged. “How are you doing? They find anything new?”

“Nah.”

Bucky looked down at the floor, chewing on his lip thoughtfully and avoiding Steve’s eyes. “They uh.. they did have another idea though.”

“What is it?”

“You’re not gonna like it.”

Frowning, Steve tilted Bucky’s chin up. “Buck, what is it?”

“Cryo.” Bucky mumbled. “They said they can put me back under until they figure out how to fix this.”

“What? Bucky you can’t seriously be thinking about-“

“I’m not thinking about it.” Bucky interrupted, looking up at him with a stony expression on his face. “I’ve already decided. I’m goin’ back into cryo tomorrow.”

The words were like a punch to the gut. Slumping back against the counter, he looked down at the floor and let out a deep sigh. “I just got you back.” He said quietly, glancing up when he felt Bucky squeeze his hand.

“I’m dangerous. You know that.”

“Not here you’re not. They can keep you safe.”

“So what, I just stay here? How long do you think I can stay in this one building before I go insane? It could be months before they figure out how to get all this crap out of my head. Am I supposed to just stay locked inside, while all these people who owe me jack shit keep providing food for me?” Bucky demanded. “We don’t belong here, Steve. T’Challa has a god damn country to run and instead he’s running around trying to keep us in check.”

He was right. Steve knew he was right. But the idea of having to say goodbye to Bucky _again,_ just when he thought they finally had a shot at a normal life.. he didn’t even want to think about it.

“Hey.” Bucky said softly, reaching up and cupping his cheek. “We still got the rest of today. I don’t wanna spend my last night watching you moping.”

Nodding, Steve forced himself to smile. “Fine.” He sighed. “You hungry?”

“Starving.” Bucky smirked, glancing around the room. “Where are we gonna sit?”

“I don’t know. Hadn’t got that far.”

Shrugging, Bucky took a few steps back and sat cross legged on the floor, tapping his leg and looking up at him expectantly. Steve rolled his eyes as he turned around, searching for some bowls to serve the stew in. He couldn’t help but smile at Bucky’s wide, eager eyes when he handed it to him, and for a while he sat, watching him shovelling the food into his mouth like it was the first time he’d eaten in weeks. He was already scrambling back over to the stove to get seconds before Steve was even halfway through his.

“Buck, when was the last time you had an actual _meal_?” He asked as he watched him eating. He never got much of a chance to look around Bucky’s apartment, but the only food he’d seen were candy bars and a few snacks.

“I ‘unno. Couldn’t eat anything for a while. Been tryin’ different stuff. Pizza’s great now. Hate sushi.” Bucky said between mouthfuls, grimacing and looking over at him. “Raw fish. Why is that a thing?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Tony always insists it’s great.”

“Steve, the man spends all his time licking the government’s asshole. ‘Course he thinks uncooked tuna tastes great.” 

Steve cracked up laughing, leaning backwards and grabbing on to Bucky’s shoulder for support. The two of them sat, sniggering like a couple of schoolboys and leaning against each other for a few minutes until Steve was eventually able to compose himself. He took the empty bowl that was balanced in Bucky’s lap and got to his feet.

 

“You want dessert?” He asked, smirking when Bucky’s eyes lit up.

“There’s dessert too?”

“Yup. I made apple pie.” Steve said proudly as he pulled it out of the oven, setting it down on the floor in front of Bucky and handing him a knife. “How much do you want?”

“Do you want me to cut a smaller piece and pretend we’re not gonna eat this entire thing, or should I just cut it in half right now?”

Steve chuckled as he sat back down, shrugging and leaning against the counter. “There’s nobody here to judge us.”

“Damn right.” Bucky mumbled as he cut through the pie.

Neither of them spoke as they ate, and for a while the only sounds in the room were the contented moans Bucky would occasionally let out. He ended up letting Bucky eat three quarters of the pie, before scooping up the dishes and carrying them over to the counter.

“You gonna help with the dishes or just sit there?” He asked, looking down at Bucky on the floor.

“I’m a disabled war veteran.”

“Get over here, you ass.”

Shrugging, Bucky came over, and Steve quickly realised that it was impossible for Bucky to hold and dry a bowl with one hand. Refusing to give in, he washed up all the dishes and then held them up one by one for Bucky to dry.

“Did it hurt?” He asked quietly once they’d put away the last of the dishes, gesturing to what was left of Bucky’s metal arm and cocking his eyebrow curiously.

Bucky shook his head. “Nah, I could control it but I couldn’t feel it. Honestly I’m glad it’s gone. Makes life a little more difficult but.. I feel less like Hydra’s puppet now.”

Steve gave him a reassuring smile and reached over to pat him on the back. “We can get you a new one once we get back.”

“You better.” Bucky mumbled. “Can’t have you being my left arm forever, unless you’re gonna start taking showers with me.”

“Speaking of showers,” Steve said loudly, rushing to change the subject. “I still need one. We should probably get back to our room.”

Bucky chuckled, leading the way out of the kitchen and along the twisting corridors until they got back to their room.

“I’m gonna take a nap.” He said as Steve started heading towards the bathroom. “If you still smell like shit when I wake up I’m never gonna speak to you again.”

Shaking his head, Steve pushed open the bathroom door and turning on the shower. It looked like it could fit about four people, and standing inside he felt incredibly small. Not a feeling he was used to these days.  
It was a long while before the water at his feet was running clear instead of a muddy brown from all the dirt and blood that had been clinging to his skin since yesterday. He didn’t want to think about how gross it must have been for Bucky sleeping next to him last night. It was no wonder he’d been complaining so much. Once he was sure he would meet Bucky’s standards of cleanliness which, really weren’t that high, he shut off the water and dried himself off. The shirt he’d been wearing all day was too gross to put back on, and his pants weren’t much better, but he had no plans to walk back out _completely_ naked, even if Bucky was asleep out there. Pulling the pants back on, he folded the t-shirt neatly and walked back out into the bedroom, placing it on the edge of the bed where Bucky was curled up, snoring quietly.  
He stirred when Steve sat down next to him, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as his eyes fluttered open.

“Hi.” He said quietly, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke.

“Hi.” Steve whispered back. “How was your nap?”

“Feel more tired than I did before.” Bucky grumbled as he wriggled closer, draping his arm over Steve’s stomach and nuzzling at his side. “You smell good.”

Steve had survived a war, fought aliens, and stopped the world from ending more times than he cared to count, but all Bucky had to do was say one nice thing to him and he was reduced to a stammering, useless mess. What made it worse was that Bucky seemed completely relaxed. Even before the war Bucky had never really understood the concept of personal space, and apparently that still hadn’t changed. While Steve’s heart was pounding in his ears like a war drum, Bucky seemed as peaceful as ever, lying next to him with his eyes half closed and dozily tracing circles on Steve’s stomach. They both lay quietly for a while, when Steve felt Bucky pause, sitting up next to him and running his finger back and forth over the same patch of skin.  
It took a few seconds for him to realise what he was looking at. After Bucky shot him on the helicarrier, he’d been left with a permanent dip in his skin where it had healed. Frowning, he moved Bucky’s hand away from the scar, linking their fingers together and squeezing his hand.

“Buck-”

“I did that to you.” Bucky said quietly, not taking his eyes off Steve’s stomach. “I.. I forgot that..”

“It wasn’t you, Buck. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

Bucky shook his head and looked up at him. “I did know what I was doing. You don’t get it, Steve. I knew _exactly_ what I was doing. I didn’t just trip and fall on the trigger, I was trying to kill you. How can you be okay with that? How can you just let me-”

“Because you stopped.” Steve interrupted, ignoring the unconvinced look Bucky gave him and cupping his face in his hands. Wide, grey eyes stared up at him, and it took a few moments for Steve to compose his thoughts again. “You stopped. As soon as you recognised me you stopped.”

“’Course I stopped.” Bucky mumbled. “Doesn’t change what I did.”

“Bucky, you’re the best marksman I know. If you’d _really_ wanted me dead, I would be. That shot was never gonna kill me.”

He could tell Bucky wasn’t convinced, avoiding his eyes and chewing on his lip sadly.

“I know you’re gonna feel guilty about this for a long time,” He said as he stroked Bucky’s cheek with his thumb, tilting his head up to look at him. “But I don’t blame you for what happened. I don’t care what anyone else thinks of you, I know you’re a good person.”

“I’m never gonna be able to make this up to you.” Bucky whispered, his eyes wet with tears. “You’ve put yourself through so much for me.”

“I’d sooner go through it all ten times over than lose you again.”

Bucky stared up at him in silence. The tears in his eyes brought out the blue in them, and the more Steve looked at them the more they seemed to shine in the dim light of their room. Before he could even think about what he was doing, Steve was pulling Bucky forward, pressing his lips together softly. If he could have his way he would have stayed like that forever, but he could feel Bucky tensing up and forced himself to pull away again, searching his eyes for some kind of reaction.

“I.. I’m sorry.” He stammered. He wanted to move, but he was frozen in place, unable to even move his hands away from Bucky’s face.

Bucky blinked at him, in a daze from what had happened, before his mouth finally twitched into a smile.

“How long you been holding that one back, Rogers?” He chuckled, reaching up to brush a lock of hair out of Steve’s face.

“Uh.. longer than I should have.” Steve admitted. “Never knew how you were gonna respond.”

Bucky shook his head. “You’re really something.” He sighed as he pulled him closer, bumping their noses together and smiling up at him. “That your first kiss since 1945?”

“No it.. why does everyone always ask me that?”

“Everyone wants to be first, Stevie. It’s human nature.”

“Well,” Steve said softly, stroking his thumb across Bucky’s cheekbone. “You could be the first person I’ve kissed _twice._ ”

Smirking, Bucky tilted his head to the side, leaning in painfully close and brushing his lips against Steve’s teasingly.

“Yeah, I’ll take that.” He whispered, waiting patiently for Steve to close the remaining space between them.

Steve tried, he really tried to keep things slow, but Bucky was intoxicating. Moving his hands away from Bucky’s face, he trailed them down his hips and pulled him onto his lap, shuddering at the muffled moan Bucky let out in response. He pushed the hem of Bucky’s shirt up and pressed his fingers into the exposed skin, holding him in place as he kissed along his jaw, the stubble there scratching his face.

“Jeeze, Stevie.” Bucky breathed, tangling his fingers in Steve’s hair and pulling him back to look at him. “Just how many people _have_ you been kissin’?”

“Two.”

“Bullshit.”

Chuckling, Steve leant back down and nuzzled at Bucky’s shoulder. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He smirked, kissing along the bare skin of his neck. “Maybe you’ve just lowered your standards. I mean it’s been, what? 75 years since anyone kissed you?”

“Shut your mouth.” Bucky muttered, tugging his hair lightly when Steve sniggered.

“Tables have turned.”

He heard Bucky mumble something under his breath, tugging him back again and crashing their lips together. Bucky was clearly out to prove something, flicking his tongue out and biting at his bottom lip. For a while Steve resisted, letting Bucky get more and more frustrated, before finally parting his lips and letting him slide his tongue into his mouth.  
They kept on for what must have been hours, and by the time they finally parted again the room was pitch black. All he could see in the darkness were Bucky’s eyes staring back at him.

“That was..”

“Fun?” Bucky offered, grinning at him and bumping their noses together affectionately.

“I was gonna say late, but that too.” Steve smirked. “Should’a done that years ago.”

“Damn right.”

Sighing contentedly, Steve pressed their foreheads together and let his eyes fall shut. “We should probably get some sleep.”

“Gonna be sleeping for a long time tomorrow.” Bucky reminded him.

“You don’t have to do this, Buck. You can still change your mind.”

“I can’t. Especially now.”

Steve frowned at him, leaning back against the pillows and pulling Bucky down with him. For a moment it was quiet as Bucky got comfortable on top of him, nestling his head against his shoulder and looking up at him.

“Your friends are in jail, Steve. You can’t just ignore that. I know you’re not gonna leave as long as I’m here, and I’m glad you stayed.. because I don’t know how much of this I could cope with on my own. But you still have a job to do. Right now I’m just a distraction.”  

“You can come with me.” Steve bargained, but Bucky just shook his head. They both knew there was no way T’Challa would let him leave until he was certain he wouldn’t cause any more harm.

“Just promise you’ll wake me up for your hundredth birthday.” Bucky said softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “Don’t wanna miss that.”

Steve rolled his eyes and nodded silently, running his fingers through the long, dark locks of hair on his head. “I promise.”

 

** Day 3 **

Waking up tangled up with Bucky felt like heaven, but he didn’t get much of a chance to appreciate it. Most of the morning was spent being bustled from room to room as they prepped Bucky for cryo, but Steve was at least allowed to go with him this time.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked for the millionth time, looking down at Bucky in the hopes that _maybe_ he’d back out at the last minute, but Bucky just nodded solemnly.

“I can’t trust my own mind.” He said, smiling sadly at him. “So until they figure out how to get this stuff outta my head, going back under’s the best thing.. for everybody.”

Steve nodded, looking down at his feet and slumping his shoulders in defeat. He heard Bucky hop off the table in front of him and glanced back up, wrapping his arms around him instinctively when he was close enough.

Bucky draped his arm around his neck and cocked his head as he looked up at him. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I love you.” Steve blurted out, pulling him close and burying his face in his hair. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, you punk.” Bucky chuckled as he tilted Steve’s head up, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Hey, Stevie?” He whispered as they parted, smiling when Steve opened his eyes to look at him.

“Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back.”


End file.
